


The Witch and the Gaoler

by pewpewdragons (Nyoona)



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Amnesia, Elemental Magic, Friendship, Gen, Icedad is missing btw, Identity, Mystery, Self-Discovery, Witches, and so is Naturemama tho that's not related to this story, but it's good to know!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 14:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 12,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16599695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyoona/pseuds/pewpewdragons
Summary: Something new I tried, a story in form of personal journal entries. It's a pretty nice way to keep my chapters from bloating to ridiculous lengths :D





	1. Zima's Journal, 5th of Early Winter, Pergamon Year 31

Today’s weather was clear and cold, perfect for finding spirits that can channel the magic of ice and frost that I need, so I was out in the woods, trying to find the local community. My own innate Shadow magic cannot adequately boost the valuable familiar gift I gained during my training, as the two elements aren’t that compatible (some days I do so curse that I happened to save that Ice Sprite’s life and received this “blessing” of cold as its thank you gift.) It forces me to rely on my Imperial energy too much and that has proven to be exhausting, especially since I’m just trying to establish myself in this new clan and have a lot to prove. That will not happen with mere cold charm trinkets, no matter how sought after they are. If I’m not able to charm a whole room to stay cold even during the hottest season of Summer, then I’m not an Ice Witch worth my title. I need the friendship of the spirits and fast.

I must admit I’m not entirely sure if the spirits in the Arcane lands are the same as in the land of my birth? The spirits in Tangled Wood valued information and were more than willing to lend me their energy in exchange for anything new they didn’t yet know. I have compiled a few bound volumes of random tidbits about various topics and I’m hoping the spirits here are as eager to learn as my old home spirit companions. The sooner I find them, the sooner I find out. And by Shadowbinder’s breath, I do hope it is enough.

But yes, today was still not that day. Conditions might have been perfect yet I saw no signs of any kind of spirit presence other than local Arcane. Those things are everywhere, even where you would expect other types to live. It is a bit strange but I did expect there to be differences when I moved here so I’m not overly concerned yet. If this weather continues I might explore deeper into the woods tomorrow, further away from the mountain that the main clan lives in. There is something strangely unsettling about that place. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but the place makes me feel… itchy? Almost like the tiny snaps of electricity on your mane during dry times, or an expectation of those.

And one more odd thing. I saw something in the woods today. I don’t know what but it was huge. I think it might have even been about the same size as me, though I didn’t get a proper look. Whatever it was, it had fur and too many horns. It most definitely wasn’t a dragon but it certainly wasn’t like any Beastclan I’ve ever seen either. It immediately ran away upon spotting my presence so I do not feel it is of immediate threat. But still, I cannot help but worry. I think I will take some extra precautions before heading out the next time.


	2. Zima's Journal, 34th of Mid-Winter, Pergamon Year 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These journals will occasionally contain some illustrations. All art ©me.

I have been seeing the creature more. A lot more. It seems to appear when the air is coldest. It is a scary looking thing but I do not believe it to be a threat to my safety, as it always leaves when we happen to meet. It does not exactly flee anymore, not like it used to, but my presence seems unwanted.

As it is less jumpy now, I have managed to get a better look. I still do not know what it is, but it walks on four legs and appears to have wings, though I doubt they’re good for flying, being so small and tattered. I wonder if the creature is somehow injured? Is it supposed to have proper wings? It is hard to say.

But to continue the description, it has a long and thick fur, mottled grey in colour, with darker, almost black mane. The mane covers most of it’s head and neck and continues down it’s back, all the way to the tail tip. And from that maned head protrudes about 3 or 4 pairs of white bony horns, each a distinct shape not meant to go with the others. Such a strange sight. It almost comically resembles a Tundra with all of that shaggy fur and the general shape of it’s body, but only if Tundras were suddenly giant sized things of nightmares. I took notice of the height of its head relative to the woods around it and went to compare. It _is_ as big as I am. It is not a dragon. It cannot be.

As words are not always adequate I will try to sketch the creature’s appearance here as best as I can.

I also noticed something else. The spirits of ice seem to follow that thing. I have tried to use the opportunity allowed by sightings of the creature to talk to the spirits but for some reason they are ignoring me. This is not normal. Nothing about this situation is normal anymore. It does not matter if this land has its differences, they should not be this great. I’m almost at my limit of being able to expend the magic of my own body to work my spells and have to find some answers.

With that in mind I went to see the Three of Healers, Lysa, Aurielius, and Jaconia. They have been here longer than I so I thought they would have useful knowledge of the spirits, but also about the creature in the woods. This assumption turned out to be wrong though. It has never occurred to me just how weak individuals on Threes are. None of them can even sense the spirits! I suppose that is why they need to form a group. But it’s not like I can manage alone either. I need my spirits just like they need each other.

When it comes to the creature, Jaconia, the Fae and Herbalist of the group, admitted to seeing it often but told me it was best to leave it alone. I also got the distinct sense that they wanted to be rid of me as soon as possible, so I did not bother them with any more questions and left.

It hurts though, not being allowed to live among the dragons of the clan but also not being accepted by my own kind. Even the monster in the woods seems to dislike me! A Witch working alone, the most wretched creature in the world, apparently. I often wonder how could I have been so stupid as to follow this path when I first had Shadow magic manifest in me? Was my need to be special that strong, or did I naively assume it would be a fun adventure? I could have just hidden and ignored it, or went on to become a Weaver like my father. It is laughable how Weavers and other crafters are accepted, even though they use the same magic as Witches, just differently enough for it not to be considered witchcraft. But it is the same. They are no better than us.

I doubt I will ever take on an apprentice. I do not want to pass forward this misery.


	3. Zima's Journal, 26th of Late Winter, Pergamon Year 31

This is hard for me to admit but I cannot keep using my personal pool of Imperial magic to strengthen the Ice magic I perform anymore. It will have lasting effects on my health if I do not stop.  And my elemental Shadow magic is of no use here. Shadow and Ice do not mix, not to mention Ice is extremely weak against Arcane. There is plenty of that type around here to dampen my magic even further (question again: why did I come here?) and nothing can change that so anything I do with the help of my own elemental magic is weaker and short lived. My charms for personal ice boxes sell on the Keep marketplace, but the buyers would notice that they’re going to start getting a lower quality product and so I will rather stop selling them completely.

I cannot afford to lose any income so I must look at other types of spells. Since I do not wish to step on the Healers toes, medicinal magic is out of the question. I have fully focused my studies on Ice magic ever since I received my gift from the Sprite so my skills at my own magic are a bit rusty, but I should be able to enchant items with faint glow at least. I did know how to make powder of darkness once upon a time too so I might try that, but I do not see such thing selling too well outside some very specific types of mercenaries, so we will see.

(I wish love potions were a real thing that works. Those would sell so well. Hah!)

To be honest I think I will probably end up becoming a peddler of useless but pretty glowing baubles and other things of no meaning, but whatever puts food in my belly. Reputation comes secondary to hunger.

But not all is entirely hopeless. I have not made much progress with the spirits but the creature in the forest is another matter. There is no communication and I do not even know if the thing can speak but it does not mind my company anymore. I think it got used to me. Or bored at having to constantly move away? Whatever the case is I can now spend time studying the spirits in peace while the creature seems to observe me. Other than that it never does anything so I do not feel unsafe around it.

And maybe it is me going a bit crazy in the wilderness but I have been talking to the creature. It does not answer back of course but I do not mind. It is a weird sort of companionship that I have with the thing but it comforts me. I suppose I am that lonely. With a familiar gift from a Sprite I’m too powerful to belong to a Three and must work alone. There is perhaps some irony in that my power is entirely dependent on the good will of the spirits of the nature around me. I’m nothing on my own but still prevented from forming those meaningful connections. I would laugh if it wasn’t such a tragic state to be. Maybe the creature feels something similar? I haven’t found any information about what it is and there seems to be no other of its kind here. As far as I can tell, other than the ice spirits swarming around it, it is also just as alone.


	4. Zima's Journal, 29th of Late Winter, Pergamon Year 31

“What are you?” The creature asked me today, out of the blue. Or I should stop calling it a creature. Its name is Harma and it is something called a Gaoler. I have heard of Gaolers of course, but only in fairy tales. They are not supposed to be real. _They. Are. Not. Supposed. To. Be. Real._ Yet here it is!

But yes, it spoke! Imagine my surprise after such a long time of complete silence. There is so much more I now know! I should try to record this with some coherence but I do not even know where to start. Everything has happened so fast after my last entry, only three short days ago, and I’m just hurrying to write everything down as soon as possible. But I suppose I should begin from the fact that it spoke to me in common tongue, though maybe in a slightly odd way. It almost sounds like an old book? I admit to writing in a bit more formal manner than my actual speech is (hoping to impress someone reading these later on, maybe? and now you have found me out. I might ease up a bit, this is tiring to keep up.) but the Gaoler actually speaks like this, if not even more formal. So archaic.

So yes, we can communicate! I cannot quite get over this. There is so much more I want to know but that will have to wait as the Gaoler seems confused about pretty much everything. For example it has no idea how it got here. Its short term memory also seems faulty, as it has no recollection of how it even met me. Apparently it just slowly became aware not that long ago that someone was there. I tried asking about what it does know but all it could say was that it was supposed to follow someone, a dragon with a scent of blood. I wanted to know if this was a companion, or friend but the answer did chill me a bit as it denied, stating without any emotion that it was meant to kill this dragon.

_*undecipherable paragraph on the page, that is heavily crossed over*_

After some consideration I’m still of the opinion that the Gaoler means me no harm. Maybe it is unwise but I have decided to continue to befriend it. Especially since it does not even know why it is meant to kill this “dragon with a scent of blood.” There is something to uncover here, memories to unlock, and I wish to aid Harma in doing that. It is not like I have any other purpose in my life anyway.

What else? Despite my adamant insistence that it was not a dragon I seem to have been wrong. But if a Gaoler is indeed a breed of dragon, then it is a very ancient breed. I tried asking about other dragon breeds and their relation to him, but it has very little knowledge about that. It could not even name my breed, which led to me having to explain a _lot_. I still do not believe it really understood how an Imperial could be the creation of Lightweaver, while personally I myself am aligned to Shadowbinder, but I’m hopeful there will be clarity once I teach it some more basics of this world. Also, Tundras it did recognize, at least I think so? It kept referring to them as little cousins. Frustratingly that was also something I could not get more information out of it.

There were some other pieces of this puzzle that I received from the Gaoler, but I wish to find out more before I commit them to paper, so I suppose this will have to suffice for my journal for today. For later reference I have scribbled more initial notes on my copy of _Dragons of Sornieth and Their Breed Characteristics_ , under Tundra for a lack of better categorization. I will revise later, as needed.

I just realized that I have kept calling Harma _it_ this whole time, probably because I got too used to doing that. I do not know what I should refer to them as, but I definitely need to stop using _it_. I should ask the next time we meet.


	5. Zima's Journal, 13th of Early Spring, Pergamon Year 32

It has been a few weeks since my last entry and time has just flown by. I quickly ran out of space to add notes to my _Dragons of Sornieth_  so I bought a new notebook. It is not like I could exactly afford it at my current situation but I found a really nice one, with a leather cover dyed to a spotted pattern in shades of grey and it just seemed too perfect a match to Harma for me to pass. And Spring is here anyway, more and more food to forage in the woods by the day. I will manage.

But goodness, I have at times felt like a posable doll! Now that the Gaoler is more aware he has also become extremely curious and fascinated by my ability to fly. He asks me almost daily for a permission for a closer examination of my wings, or for me to take flight and land over and over again while he tries to make sense of how that all works. My hands and feet are also of equal interest, or more specifically that I have 4 digits where he has 5. He does really resemble a Tundra to a great degree... Of course I return these requests with plenty my own, making Harma an object of my own research, so I cannot complain. I feel less like a Witch and more like a Scholar lately.

And the barrage of questions he had after spotting Jaconia in the woods one day… Shadowbinder’s shanks, I do not possess such intimate knowledge of Faes! I’m slightly relieved that he chose not to approach Jaconia though. Harma is also under the impression that it was his first time seeing a Fae and I saw no reason to correct him. He still forgets things from just days before in a seemingly random manner and it seems that not being able to remember is a matter of some pain and anxiety. I do not wish to needlessly add to that.

Anyway, despite the personal notes on my copy I brought him the _Dragons of Sornieth_ to read for more information about all the breeds, since reading and writing are skills that he told me he possesses. But while we speaks more or less the same language, we apparently do not share the same alphabet. I think books would be a much better, or at least more accurate way to satisfy his thirst for knowledge than relying on what I know, so that is something we need to work on. It would be easiest for Harma to learn our writing rather than for me to learn his and start translating whole books, so hopefully that is something he’s also willing to learn.

Getting more familiar with him, I have managed to make some more sketches. I have opted to leave out his wings from these sketches and focus just on the body shape and the similarities and differences they have with Tundras. The second one is my estimation of what he might look like with trimmed fur.

Lastly, I’ve been so focused on the Gaoler that it took some time for me to notice a change in the spirits! They are still way more unresponsive than they should be but they do react to my presence now. It seems they are somehow tied to Harma’s mental state and become more aware along with him. I have found out that Gaolers are Icewarden’s initial creations, preceding Tundras, and seem to be possess much stronger magic than their smaller successors, though at this point I have absolutely no idea about their exact powers. But maybe that could have at least something to do with things being so weird around here? By helping Harma I should also be able to help the spirits as I cannot imagine they have entered this almost… _trance-like_ state voluntarily. Not those curiosity-filled beings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually just completely forgot about the wings but luckily I can put the blame on Zima~


	6. Zima's Journal, 19th of Early Spring, Pergamon Year 32

Today I gave Harma a journal of his own. I did not splurge money on yet another one, I promise. It is the one that was meant to replace this current journal I’m writing in now, since I only have few dozen pages left. With the separate Harma journal I think I can stretch this one to last a bit longer. And if I cannot then I do have plenty of loose sheets of paper to write on. I can attach those to a new journal when I can again afford to buy one. It will be alright either way.

But back to the journal I gave him. I thought writing in it would be good practice for him since he agreed to try and learn our writing system. In the end he can write in any way he chooses of course. Or not write at all. I’m not going to force it. He said he has never written for “fun” but I do not think journal keeping is that, at least not entirely. In fact I also thought writing things down might help him sort his memories a bit better as they come and go and be useful that way.

He has mentioned some more things that might be important to the mystery of him being here but I’m afraid I am of no use piecing them together since for me they completely lack any context to put them in. For now I’m just trying to remember these things for him without adding any of own assumptions. That is why it would be good for him to record them in his own words, with his own understanding of what these pieces mean and I’m hoping that is what he will do with the journal. And now that he has the way to do that I can maybe speculate just little here, in these pages.

He has spoken about a stranger, someone that was not a Gaoler who was found dead. Except then they were not dead after all? He does not know himself either since the memories appear to come as vague flashes so it is hard to be sure, but he is either saying this someone should have been dead or should have been left dead. Both would have highly different meanings. The idea of a thing that is dead but not dead gives me chills but I am somewhat assured by his unfamiliarity with my breed. Even now that he is starting to remember these fragments there has been no such recognition. And I do not even know if this stranger was a dragon or Beastclan.

We have not talked about Beastclans yet, so a note to myself to bring that up in the near future, when he is a bit more comfortable with the idea of there even being multiple dragon species. He is fascinated but also a bit overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information and things out there, I can tell, so I need to somehow make value judgments about what new things I’m going to introduce him to. I do not like the idea of restricting his access, but he cannot take it all in at once.

But yes, Harma’s stranger. Now if it was someone that should have been left dead then that actually make sense. Maybe an enemy of some sort? A spy? A traitor? I wonder what kind of a creature could it have been, being able to find these mythical fairy tale beings that no one alive has ever seen in the first place? And then to do something to Harma to compel him to leave and do this violent task he has been given. At least I assume something unusual must have been done to him, to sic him after this dragon with a scent of blood? Though as I wrote earlier, I should not in fact assume anything at this point.

I wish there was a way to find out more, to properly help him. I have grown rather fond of this strange friend of mine. At least I think we are friends? It is hard to say. Even though he has clear curiosity towards me, his general air is very formal and distant. Maybe the feeling is entirely one sided and he considers me interesting and maybe convenient aid, but not a friend? What am I to him anyway, but a stranger in a strange place, in a situation that he clearly does not wish to be in. He will regain his memories and leave and I will be alone again so I should not get attached.


	7. Harma's Journal, 20th of Early Spring, Pergamon Year 32

I am going to begin with an acknowledgment to the fact that I have never kept a journal of any kind and I am not entirely sure what to write here. But Zima gave this item to me to be used so I shall try. I know she wished for me to practice her written language, and maybe I will, later on. But for now I just hope to convey my thoughts in a manner that enables me to express myself with least difficulty so I will write mine own way.

It bothers me to have to keep asking the Witch about the date, but I have no choice. My head is hazy and I cannot always recollect things from even the week or day past. The last lucid memory I have before coming to in this foreign land is of warmer sleet season of year 3603 but I do not know how much time might have passed since then. It is terrifying but I try not to think about it too much right now. I need to establish my current situation first and worry about the rest later. But coming to something like year 32 is strange, to say the least. It is apparently counted from the establishment of the infant clan she is a member of. How anyone can keep track of things that way is beyond me but it is what I am to use for now. Year 32.

Zima told me that I am at Starfall Isles now so this is the domain of the Arcanist, the youngest of my master’s relatives but also the Catalyst, Havoc, and Doombringer, the most dangerous one. I wonder if that is the reason for this constant feeling of unease and painful ache in my head that I have? It grows less when I move further away from the mountain that Zima’s clan lives in. I thought Arcanist must live there too but she just laughed at me when I asked. I do not know what to make of it.

And Zima herself… what to say about her? I am grateful for the company and help, and for her patience in teaching me. And the obvious discretion around my ongoing memory loss, of course. I cannot imagine how many times she has had to repeat same lessons to me but she never complains nor even mentions it. She is most kind.

Yet she is also greatly different and I am trying to adjust, to learn to think of her as a  _ dragon _ . The only proper fur she has is a mane. Other than that she is covered in round scales, almost like a fish. And the strangest thing is that she is vibrant blue in colour, all over. She would really stand out amongst the snow but she also cannot hide herself in these woods. That colour is just too bright and absurd, no matter how you look at it.

She is also very… long. I have nothing to compare that shape to other than the strange slithery animals I have seen here. Snakes, she tells me. Yet she does not travel on the ground like these snake animals do. She has legs and wings, like me. And she flies! I have wings too yet I cannot do that.

That does somewhat bring me back to my own situation. I cannot fly but somehow I have managed to transport myself from an island to another. The northernmost islands of the Icefields are apparently not quite that far from the southernmost islands of Starfall Isles, but it is not a particularly short distance either. Did I swim? Do I know how to swim? I did not used to but I know not much anything of my current situation. I do not even know how I have survived so well in this strange land as I am clearly not starving.

I wish I had my Elders here to tell me what to do now. Or better yet I wish I had my master Icewarden. Though I know very well he is gone, was already over two centuries gone by the time I was last awakened from the long rest, I believe he is alive and would know what to do. I have so many decisions to make but I am not used to making any.

Someone tell me what to do?


	8. Zima's Journal, 8th of Late Spring, Pergamon Year 32

I am glad to see that Harma seems to have fully embraced the habit of writing things down to his journal. He mostly seems to make only short notes but stops to make them all the time. I suppose he writes anything he wants to remember later on? I’m curious but not going to probe. His journal is his, and fair is fair as I would probably not show him mine either.

Harma has been seeing more dragons in the woods but continues to not approach, which I think is wise. The Border Guard moves around a lot but they have their set routes that are easy to avoid once you learn them. But talking about Border Guard, Harma said something odd about few of them. He said they look like little cousins but are not. I assume he of course means Tundras so he must be talking about Varjagi and… Rheon, I think? Neither is too social but the latter seems to hold a downright grudge towards the world. They are an odd pair, I must admit, but not Tundras? I wonder what that means?

Then kind of related to Harma, but since I have dedicated so much time to him lately, I have had to make some sacrifices in other areas. Ice magic is still the skill that is most wanted in the clan so I have again started to perform it. It has only been two months since I stopped using my inner magic reserves to replace the energy from the spirits to use the gift, and I’m not fully recovered. I overused it too far so the recovery is taking a very long time but being able to perform even twenty of those spells is more profitable than a mountain of glow trinkets so I feel I have no choice in the matter. I’m trying to pace myself and only do a few at a time, keeping at least a week between but I’m growing so tired already. Yet Summer season is approaching and just before it the big Fair of Season Change, where I know I can sell them all with better profit than on normal market day. I only need a handful more, not much. I would be set for a whole season with that.

I have to confess that selling the gift has also crossed my mind. There are collectors and it would be worth a fortune. I know I cannot, and that is not because it would mean violently ripping it out of my body where the gift has been implanted in the form of these icy white spines, only meant to be passed on upon my life expiring. I’m at a state where I fully believe I would be capable of doing that. But it would be the worst possible insult towards the Ice Sprite who gave the gift to me. Yet I’m exhausted and out of money, completely unable to appreciate having been granted such a valuable treasure. I feel like the lowest, most ungrateful person in the world.

Well, anyway, enough self-pity. I only have seven pages left in this journal so I might become a bit sparse with my entries for a while. I’m hoping to buy a new one at the Fair so that is four more weeks that this one will have to last me. As you can see most of what I have written has merely been tracking my health and energy levels but doing that daily does eat pages.


	9. Harma's Journal, 33rd of Late Spring, Pergamon Year 32

I noticed that Zima has been looking rather unwell in recent times. Her behaviour had not changed but her scales looked remarkably dull compared to their earlier brilliance. No matter my personal opinion on such needlessly bright colour I do know that a change like that does not indicate change for a better. I was not sure if mentioning such a thing would be considered rude in her culture but I brought it up despite my doubts. And I did receive quite an interesting explanation from her.

There is much I do not understand about the way different magics interact in relation to each other and having parts of my memories still randomly disappear from time to time does not help, though this journal has been helpful in regards to that. But apparently she has been blessed, or burdened with a gift of Ice magic on top of her own Shadow magic. The “gift” is physically manifested in those white spiky things on her otherwise blue hide. And in addition to this, her being an Imperial means she has her own limited reserves of elementless inner magic. That sounds like plenty of energy, but according to her the Ice and Shadow magics are incompatible and so she has been using her own magic instead to work her craft and make a living. This in turn has been taking its heavy toll on her body.

That would certainly explain her interest in the natural spirits around me. In return to some favour, they could lend her their energy, of which they have near endless supply. Except somehow these spirits seem to have attached themselves to me and thus are not open to trading with Zima at all. I do not know why they follow me or how to make them stop. What a dilemma indeed.

But it also did not seem like the best situation to be dependent of the spirits in the first place, at least not from my point of view. It would have been such a severe limitation for the rest of her life. That is why I decided to give Zima that magic as her own. It felt like the most obvious solution. It is quite a simple one too. You just connect the heart and the head with a current of magic to open up a new path. It is done to hatchlings who for some reason get born without that connection to their element, and the rare visitor to the Fortress that we decide to keep, to enable them to survive. We do not get to perform the actual thing that often, but it is not a complex task, so that is what I did.

I still somewhat struggle with fluently reading her books but many of them do have plenty of illustrations so I could locate the heart based on a drawing that I copied here from one of them. It is slightly lower on the body, what I would already call a stomach on mine based on the distance from the arms, but is still chest on hers. It is all relative to the dimensions of the whole body, I suppose, and as I have noted before hers is very long.

After locating the heart you just place the other paw on top of the head and conjure that energy between the two points. There is no need to do anything with the magic you conjure and the consequences of that would be disastrous too as bodies do not take kindly to internal icing. Just set up a path for the energy to run and it is done. The body will remember it from thereon.

So Zima now has that path but I am afraid I have made a great social blunder as she seemed shaken beyond words and just flew away without saying anything. I did not think it would be something upsetting but I have to remember that I do not know her customs. I should have never done that. I should have

_ *writing faints to a scribble and an ink stain* _

I take that previous part back. She is not upset. In fact I seem to have done her a service greater than I could have imagined. I am not sure how I feel about getting… “hugged” but I am glad. Zima is happy. I am… happy.


	10. Zima's Journal, 33rd of Late Spring, Pergamon Year 32

I am renewed, completely! Harma is amazing, just absolutely amazing, and he has given me this gift that I do not know how to repay. My magic is my own now! Entirely mine! I’m not just borrowing energy from somewhere, it is  _ in _ me. I can see the strands, just like I could see Shadow energy before, just floating in the air all around me. It is unbelievable!

It all happened very quickly and I have no idea how but he said he could help me and then went on to place one paw on my chest and another one on my head. For a short moment the air seemed to freeze around us and just like that I was invigorated!

I feel so alive, so powerful! In that moment I did not know what to do with myself so had to take flight, go up in the air and do something, anything, create useless explosions of snow and ice. Big things. Irresponsible things. Things I could not have done in the past because I needed to use my borrowed reserves frugally. Not anymore. Forget about hoping to enchant tiny rooms to stay cold, I think I could now do that to the whole Keep! I just feel so amazingly awake and full of energy compared to how weak and exhausted I was before.

Poor Harma seemed confused, like he had not even realized how much he had given me. Though I was probably a bit too excited too. Note to self: definitely do not hug him again, it is not his thing. But now I know what it looks like when a Gaoler smiles (just a bit terrifying to be honest but it is the thought that counts of course)

Oh I would squeeze him again if I could but boundaries, Zima, boundaries!

I do have to wonder though, just what exactly is the extent of his powers? He might have been nonchalant, like what he did was not a big deal at all. And maybe to him it was not but who can even do something like that? Familiars have to condense their magic into a physical object in order to share it. And even though more direct, spirits can only lend you a small amount of theirs. It is never really yours.

And now that I can see Ice magic I can also see it that he is constantly being surrounded by it. He does not just seek out the magic when he needs it but it is actually drawn to him so he constantly has this shimmering concentration of energy around him. Is he a powerful Witch amongst his own? Or is his whole breed so magically inclined? I have so many more questions now.

But unfortunately those will all have to wait. I have charms to make and sell!


	11. Zima's Journal, 4th of Early Summer, Pergamon Year 32

Start of a fresh new journal. It smells so good. And looks good too, bound in deep red and purple tones. I've never before dared to waste money on brightly dyed covers, but I sold so many cold charms on the Season Change Fair that you would not even believe. My stock was twice the initially planned 20 and they were almost torn from my hands. I should have made 80! Because I could have, I’m sure of it. Harma’s gift has made such a difference and I do not believe I need to worry about my livelihood ever again.

I also bought him a few things. I would have liked to get him books of his own, but he lives where he lives, which is currently in a cold and damp cave, hiding away from the warm weather. His journal survives because he keeps it near and warm but otherwise paper would get ruined. Anything he cannot carry with him is excess. So what to get to someone like him?

Well first of all I got him a bag. He has one but it looks so old and frayed that I thought he might appreciate a replacement. His is leather but the new one I decided should be waterproof so it is made of waxed canvas. It is still sturdy, with plenty of pockets too, so I hope he will like it when I give it to him tomorrow. Today is too late as I stayed at the Fair way past midnight bell. It is probably almost silent hour as I write this and I should be asleep but I have a bit too much energy still.

And I got him another thing, a set of shearing scissors and a bone comb. It is a risky gift, I admit, as I have no idea if the length of their fur and mane means something to Gaolers. But it is getting warm, and pretty soon we might get Mid-Summer heatwaves too. His cave will probably stay nice and cool but maybe he does not wish to spend a whole season holed up in there? I’m thinking of it as giving him an option to make the summer more tolerable, that is all. Besides, maybe a mane that reaches the ground is not an issue on someplace icy, I do not know, but in here it collects dirt and leaves, dragging behind him like it does. And he does get stuck in the bushes a lot.

I ended up buying quite a lot but other than those they’re all necessities. I did not even think to make a list beforehand of what I needed to buy but it also would have been unnecessary as I was either running low or was already completely out of most basic things, like spices, yarns, and soaps, but also strong, coloured inks and spell ingredients. And I think I do have a pretty good handle on what I need most in general and what can wait until next time so all of it going to use pretty much right away. I’m feeling really excited and invigorated. I have so many unfinished projects to do in my cottage that I can now work on, fix all those things that need fixing. I think I will be very busy for a while.


	12. Harma's Journal, 16th of Early Summer, Pergamon Year 32

Zima has become extremely curious about the Gaolers ever since the day I aided her with her magic problem. Now it is a slight problem for me. I do not mind telling her about myself but I am not entirely sure how much I am allowed to talk about my kind and our purpose to an outsider. Yet she has a way of making me divulge small things. Very harmless things so far but facts nonetheless. And for some reason these questions remind me of something, something I need to remember.

_ What are you? What can you do? Just how strong are you? What is your purpose? Were you really created for servitude? How do you obey so readily? Who do you follow now that your master Icewarden isn’t here anymore? _

Zima has not asked even half of these and hopefully will never do, but someone has, I feel. Someone has asked them all before. It has an ominous sense to it, like a prelude to something bad.

I think I have to request that she stops asking, though for some reason the idea makes me nervous. I do not wish to disappoint her, and not just because I am grateful for her help, but because it would feel bad inside me. But why? This sentiment seems to make no sense. Am I seeking a new master to replace the one I lost, someone to tell me what to do? Is that it? Could Zima tell me what to do?

No, I think not, she does not have the disposition to lead. From what I can tell she tends to avoid problems rather than face them. For now she is of course also my teacher to this world and as such an authority to me but I do not feel that is it either. I do now view her as an Elder. So what is it that I want from her?

I want something from her?

I want something.

Am I feeling a selfish feeling?

I need time to think.


	13. Zima's Journal, 20th of Early Summer to 21st of Early Fall, Pergamon Year 32

**20h of Early Summer**

We had an argument. I do not know where Harma is. I have not gone see him in two days and he has not sought me out. It was not really even an argument. I angered him. I know not how, or why, but I did. He just… exploded.

He said he needed me to stop asking questions about Gaolers. I was slightly taken aback and more than a bit embarrassed since I have been asking quite freely. I had not realized it was an issue of any kind, or that I had been inconsiderate. But of course I agreed to stop. What else was I supposed to do? I apologized and told him I would not ask anything more. So why did he get angry? I do not understand. Why did he yell at me to stop demanding things from him when I had just agreed not to?

**24th of Early Summer**

It has been 6 days now and I have heard nothing. I do not know if I should try to find him or leave him alone.

**33rd of Early Summer**

I went to look for Harma. I had to. It has been 2 weeks and I cannot take this anymore. But he is not here. I went beyond where he usually moves, far beyond, but nothing. I cannot find him. Has he really left for good?

**3rd of Mid-Summer**

One of the Border Guard Tundras came by, Rheon I think. They’re hard to tell apart (siblings? twins?) but it was the quiet one. He has never spoken to me before this so I had to wonder what he wanted when I saw him approach my cottage.

Turns out he wanted to know about Harma. Or the forest protector, as the Tundra called him. Apparently Harma was right that there is something strange about him and the other one too, as they are clearly able to recognize his strong magic and that he attracts spirits. They had just interpreted it to mean that he is a magical creature himself, some kind of guardian to this place, and they seem to respect him highly for it. Some of it seems to have trickled onto me too for communicating with the protector, as I was now treated with reserved politeness by this small dragon at my doorstep.

In any case, he wanted to know if something had happened, like had Harma been offended by the clan or the guard, or what was the reason for his absence. What was I supposed to say to that? That I had offended him but I have no idea how? Or tell him that he is no protector of the woods at all but just another dragon?

In the end I told him that the protector had not seen it fit to tell me the reason for leaving or if he was coming back. I think that satisfied him. It does not satisfy me.

**21st of Early Fall**

It has been almost 3 months since my last entry. I haven’t written anything in my journal as there is nothing to report. Nothing has happened. Harma is still not here and I am alone again. Things are back to normal. I lived like this before, I can get used to it again. So why do I feel like I’m slowly suffocating?


	14. Harma's Journal, Early to Mid-Summer, date unknown, Pergamon Year 32

The journal Zima gave me… Why did I take this thing with me? I should have left it behind alongside her. I should cast it away now, throw it as far away into this cursed forest of pink crystals as I can and walk away. Why am I writing in it now? Without her help I do not even know what day it is. Has it been a week? Two? Longer? Does it matter?

Zima is dangerous. I am created for one thing, to serve master Icewarden. I am not to have wants or needs of my own. I am not to care about wants and needs of others either. I should focus fully on finding out everything I need in preparation of making my way back home. I cannot be thrown into confusion over feelings of others. She is the cause of some senseless and unreasonable unrest inside me and that will not do! I am better off alone.

As to my current whereabouts, I am not sure. I walked until I found water, the sea. After that I have just been following the coastal line towards south, looking for a passage until I ended up where I am now. I referred to this place as a forest but that is not in a sense of trees and vegetation. I am surrounded by tall and narrow pillars of crystal, like trees in a forest. Or maybe more like a maze. I have not ventured too deep inside for I fear I might not find my way out again. How I wish I could fly so I could get a better understanding of my surroundings. The crystals are too smooth and slippery to climb so I have to settle to conjuring piles of ice and snow if I want to get higher up.

From what I can see these crystals get larger and larger deeper in, until they almost resemble hills and mountains in the far distance. And to another direction there is an actual mountain. Or maybe that is yet another inaccurate description. It is as high a mountain but shaped like a group of massive towers. I am not sure if it not some trick of the light but it looks like parts of it are actually floating in the air. Such an odd land. I do not like it.

My options, as I see them, are to brave my way inside the crystal maze and risk getting nowhere but lost, or turn back and follow the coast to another direction, to see what is there. Safer for sure, but also in the wrong direction as it would take me towards north and east, when south is where I need to go.

There is also a third option, to swim. I am here, in an island. That must mean I know how, does it not? Yet I hesitate to try. There is a path down the cliffs to the shore not far away from here and I have taken it a few times, intending to venture into the water to try it out. But I keep losing my nerve. The sea looks too vast and you cannot see the bottom beyond the first few steps in. The way the weather keeps changing the surface from calm to unrest is also frightful. I have begun to doubt that was my method of crossing.

Why can I not remember this?


	15. Harma's Journal, Summer, date unknown, Pergamon Year 32

The crystal forest remains impenetrable. I had the idea to mark my path so I have been leaving rocks and twigs that I have brought along with me to mark where I came from, going a bit deeper in each day. But there is a point where going further is no longer possible. The crystals turn thick and start growing into each other, forming solid walls that I cannot pass without the ability to fly.

The sea is not any more viable option. Searching the shoreline I found a still pool of water that was left behind by the tides. It was deep enough for me to test my abilities, but not too deep that I could not keep my head above the surface if I stood up on my hind legs. In conclusion I learned that I cannot swim and that water stings terribly inside your snout. If I swam here then it was the doing of whatever is possessing me and at this point I would not even rule out that thing being able to somehow make me fly too. But none of this I can do on my own.

What that all means is that I really need to go back the way I came from, to the forest of trees. And finding my way across the sea and to home is not the only reason I need to do that anymore because I am again starting to forget things, more and more with each passing day. Being away from the mountain means the pain and pressure in my head is gone and I feel comfortable. Too comfortable. I am sinking into a haze and while painless, that haze seems to compel me to go back, insist that I have something I need to do. Follow and kill the dragon with the scent of blood. Why does the mountain seem take that compulsion away? I need to go back now, while it is still voluntary. Who knows what will happen if I leave it for later, when it is not? I will go back and see if I can manage to make some more sense to everything that is happening to me.

But then, going back I do not wish to see Zima. Or no, that is not true because I do. I really want to see her and talk to her, ask for advice and reassurance. I have had ample time to think about her actions, and mine too, to reconsider it all. And most importantly to calm down. I have to admit that left because of upset I caused entirely on my own. It is my own confusion and lack of understanding that is hurting me, not anything she has done. Most likely it was I who ended up hurting her. The way she looked at me when I yelled at her... It is not a good or proud memory. I do not know what to call this feeling i have but I care about her happiness, and duty… no, even master Icewarden can get damned! So when I go back I have to avoid her. She will be happier that way.


	16. Harma's Journal, Fall? Date unknown, Pergamon Year 32

Things around me are changing colours. This forest was bare when I came to, and after that it has been various shades of green and pink. And now it is so many colours. I can see green and pink, but also yellow, orange, red, purple, and brown. How can so many colours exist in nature? It is beautiful but also tires my eyes and gives me headache so I mostly keep my eyes on the ground.

The colours are not the only thing that is making my head hurt. I am back at the mountain and my mind is clearing but it hurts, more the closer I go. But I think that is what I need to do if I want to find out what happened to me. Closer hurts but also clarifies.

I have had flashes of my home but also of other places, strange places that I have only heard of from master Icewarden when he tells us of his siblings. There is a land full of darkness, but not dark, Illuminated with a glow like Zima’s magic lights. And a land of bones and red, where everything is born already dying. Cold place of hard metallic things, air full of static electricity. Green places, blue places, fiery places, light and dark, warm and cold. I think I might have been to them all? But how? And why?

And there is someone, a dragon. I think I can now recognize them as the breed called Pearlcatcher, though I have yet to see one outside the pages of books. I remember a hide as yellow as insides of an egg, and the pearl, large and with colours of rainbow faintly visible under the white surface. And they had such a soft and comforting voice. These memories are from home and make even less sense. What was such a breed doing there? Only a Tundra could survive all the way to master’s lair and we have had just a handful of even those little cousins stay there over the span of thousands of year. No one else. So why am I seeing a Pearlcatcher there?

I have decided to go to the mountain, as close as I can get. I do not know if it will allow me to go in or how I would even do that with dragons living in there, but I am going to try. My plan is to stay further away for a few days, to get as much rest from whatever influence the place has on me, and then just walk as far in as my head can stand and my feet will carry. And if I can continue to crawl after that I will. I need this block to leave my mind.

I have not seen Zima. I avoid the places I know she normally frequents and have been laying low, careful not to reveal myself even to the half-dragons that guard the woods. Those two can somehow sense my presence and even though they have shown no interest in approaching me, I think it better to be cautious as I know the Guard to be one of the few who do not seem to mind that Zima is a Witch, so they do talk to her.

Even having made this decision, I find myself hoping that she would be here. Going to that mountain is going to be difficult and I wish I had aid. Or at least company, someone to rely on. I just want to tell her what I am thinking and planning, and hear her opinions and ideas about this all. I do not know why that is as she cannot tell me what to do or if the decision I made is the right one.


	17. Zima's Journal, 1st of Mid-Fall, Pergamon Year 32

He is back.

I was outside my cottage, chopping and spreading out mushrooms to dry since the weather was sunny and dry. There was noise of twigs breaking that made me look up. He’s normally more careful with his movements and would not make such a noise but now he seemed to be able to barely stand up. I’m not sure if things happened quite as I remember but he saw me and for some reason definitely smiled, of that I am sure. He had been so angry when he left and been gone for so long, so seeing him smile just like nothing had happened made my temper flare. I was probably about to shout something really mean but was not allowed the time for such pettiness. I do not know if he actually tried to reach for me or was he just stepping forward, or what he said before he just… fell. Like a sack.

It has been five bells since then. It is the middle of the night and my mushrooms are dry, collected, and stored in jars, but he is still unconscious. I cannot get him to wake up. If it was not for the fact that he is breathing I might think him dead, so unresponsive is he. I managed to drag him inside and clean him up a bit but there seems to be nothing else I can do since he has no visible injuries. Though I suppose I have to find a way to make him drink something if this goes on for much longer.

I do not think I can get any sleep tonight. Besides, he  _ is _ occupying my nest as I have no room for guests, so I guess I will find things to keep me busy. Like writing this journal. Although so far it has not helped me to get my thoughts in order. I have no idea what to think about the fact that he’s here. Am I happy or am I angry? What do I say to him when he wakes up?

Maybe I will do an inventory of my winter supplies so far. I do not really have to. Money is not an issue anymore since I can do as much Ice magic as I need and I can always just buy anything I run out of with the profits I have been making. But I like doing things on my own. I think I will rather use all that money to buy more jars and variety of spices, pretty dishes and maybe some nicer fabrics, little comforts like that. I call this place a cottage but in reality it is a hovel. I have slowly been working on that, replacing things, making it more cozy but also more sturdy. At some point I need to replace the walls and the roof, essentially rebuilding the whole thing. Maybe that will be next spring already? I have all the winter to make plans, improve the layout, think about what I need but also what I just want.

Harma is still unconscious. I suppose it will not bother him if I clean this place a bit.


	18. Harma's Journal, 5th of Mid-Fall, Pergamon Year 32

I woke up two days ago, having apparently been unconscious for just as long. I have never been inside Zima’s cottage so I opened my eyes to strange sights. So many things hanging from the ceiling, fire inside some sort of small stone structure, and wooden furniture. And so many smells. I was lying on something soft that smelled of Zima and was just wondering if I should be worried when she appeared from somewhere.

She made me drink water before I even realized I was thirsty and asked many questions to make sure I was alright. She smiled and looked satisfied, having found nothing wrong. I was feeling quite nice and comfortable but then, just like that, her face changed and she snarled. She actually bared her fangs at me! And called me an idiot too. It was quite shocking after having just woken up. Though I do think I deserved that.

I asked her how she had managed to find me, but apparently I had came to her instead. I do not remember any of this but that does not matter because now I remember everything else. I did not really stop to consider before I told her that, but I think I do not wish to keep things from her anymore. I only asked for some time to get my thoughts in order before I reveal to her everything.

If I thought she would be happy to hear that then I was wrong. Seeing her nervously withdraw and tell me that it was fine, that I did not have to tell her anything filled me with burning shame. I have not said the words  _ I am sorry _ too many times in my life and I have never meant them more than I did at that moment.

Since then I have learned some new things. First is that I do not have to do things alone. I have struggled to be on my own, make my own decisions, yearning for support but thinking that only my own kind is able to provide that. This is not true. Because another thing I have learned is a new word. It is the word to describe what I have been feeling when I am with Zima but also when I was away from her. She is important and someone I can place my trust on, a person who can make me feel not alone. Like a family but one that I have chosen for myself, a  _ friend _ .

To my horror I made Zima cry when I said I had no idea what that word meant upon first hearing it, but she assured me I had not done anything bad. She was sad for me, not because of me. After she explained the meaning I think I can understand why. It feels like an important concept to have some kind of word to describe it, yet I have gone my whole life without. With no such word, how were I to know it is even a thing that exists, or that what I was feeling was not such a strange or abnormal thing at all? I am glad to have gotten lost here just for learning this.

I have also decided I might like this thing called hug after all. It feels safe. It is a surprisingly pleasant thing to fall asleep to. And waking up next to someone is also quite nice. A bit too warm but not bad.


	19. Zima's Journal, 6th of Mid-Fall, Pergamon Year 32

Harma told me everything that lead him to arrive here, and more, about his past and who he is. I’m writing some of it down when it is still fresh in my mind, mostly focusing on what lead to his current circumstances.

First thing out of the way, he is technically very old, born way over thousand years ago. But he has spent most of that time hibernating, only being woken up when there was a task for him to perform. This was not often as he was considered defective by his deity due to one missing bone on his left paw. Counting the time he has been away from the Southern Icefields he estimated that all in all he has been awake for about 50 years, which makes him both older but also younger than me. Bit mind-bending.

The task he was last woken to was to guard an item that had been found from the glaciers surrounding Icewarden’s Fortress, a large pearl next to remains of some kind of dragon. They had deemed the pearl not normal but did not know it belonged to a Pearlcatcher, a breed they had not encountered before. I am sure Icewarden is familiar with all of Sornieth but has chosen to keep his creations in the dark for his own reasons. This was also the first time Harma had been woken since his deity went missing, so the task was given to him by Elders, Gaolers that have been awake the longest.

It seems that Icewarden kept a tight control over his servants and their obedience to him was unfaltering. But with him not there, and Gaolers being such magic-filled but directionless creatures, that pearl did a number on poor Harma. Memories contained in a Pearlcatcher’s pearl are normally too faint for anyone but other Pearlcatchers to perceive properly but the place the pearl was taken to amplified its magic many-folds and soon it was like he was guarding a real flesh and bone prisoner, not just the remnants of what once was.

This Pearlcatcher, named Alvara, seemed kind and gentle. She spoke with Harma a lot, asking all kinds of questions, always interested, and encouraging the lonely and ostracized young Gaoler to open up. And that he did. In turn she told him about a child she was taking care of, a little Skydancer boy called Dhaleil, a prince and maybe even a future ruler of a kingdom. She had been happy until the day a stranger came and with deceit took her place to steal the hatchling prince.

Alvara had been left for dead but she survived, for a time at least. She did not believe the prince to be alive anymore and so, hoping for power to avenge the child, she ventured deep into the glaciers, half-dead but intent on making her way to where the god was said to live. And she almost made it.

Kind and warm as she was, the manner of her death must have corrupted the pearl, focusing it on revenge, by any means necessary. She gained Harma’s trust and then convinced him to eat the pearl, taking complete control of the poor boy when he did so. It has been Alvara’s pearl inside him that has driven Harma to hunt down the dragon who caused her death, following it all over the world, expending Harma’s magic at will to even freeze the ocean under his feet to make passage if necessary.

I knew before that the Pergamon mountain seemed to bother Harma for some reason, I just did not know how badly, but he had been in near constant state of pain since arriving here. There is strong magic in there, even I can sense that. I believe it must be strong enough to affect the pearl that Harma digested, which leads me to think that Alvara must have been magically talented and either Shadow or Light aligned. Lightning is also a possibility, but the sheer strength of the rejection would suggest one of the former options.

Knowing that the dragon she wanted to kill is inside the Keep but unable to go in, Harma was made to wait and bide his time in the woods nearby. Continuing to stay so close weakened Alvara’s control though, enough so that Harma was able to start functioning on his own again. And then when he left he realized that he was losing himself the further away he went so he made the decision to come back and this time go as close to the source of his discomfort as he could, to try to rid himself of his passenger, no matter what it would take.

So that is the gist of it. He spent a few days in a cave at the root of the mountain, vomiting some kind of black goo, the essence of the pearl I assume. It weakened him greatly but once done the Arcane energies bothered him no more and he is now freed. It may very well be a great shame that Alvara and the princeling will go unavenged but it cannot be helped. I think I actually might have an inkling who this dragon with a scent of blood is but nothing is worth ruining a life of someone uninvolved. I am going to be cautious of her from now on but that is all. The task of punishing does not belong to Harma, nor I.

He has his memories and freedom and can go home now. I’m happy for him, even if the thought is personally sad to me. He will again have the place and people with whom he belongs and that is the most important thing.


	20. Harma's Journal, 10th of Late Fall, Pergamon Year 32

I finally had a conversation with the spirits around here, after realizing one day that I had not been followed by them since I came back from the mountain. It took me a while to find them because when given the choice they actually prefer to stay quite far away from the Pergamon mountain. Based on what they told me I had been constantly expending my magic without any conscious thought, as a sort of an aura around me. The way they described it was safety and comfort, though it affected their mental state in weird ways. That means I must have been trying to protect myself from the Arcane energy that radiates from the mountain as I cannot think of another explanation. I think they are satisfied with that too.

When it comes to Zima, my friend has been slightly snippy with me lately. I have been trying to make up for the way I treated her earlier and been on my very best behaviour but did not believe I had done anything particularly grievous lately to deserve such treatment so I confronted her about it. Communicating is something I am learning to do now. It turns out I still have something to learn and I have unwittingly been inconsiderate again as she asked me to just tell her when I am going to leave so she has time to prepare for it. The thought that it would be something she is worrying about had not even occurred to me.

I then, in turn, asked her if she would consider coming with me. With the magic I unlocked inside her the place should now be quite survivable. Maybe not comfortable but livable. I must confess to some measure of enjoyment I get from catching her with something she is completely unprepared for. The way she kneads the ground while thinking is amusing. She did not take long though, before looking straight at me and announcing that she would.

Many emotions have not been allowed, or even familiar to me before so it is at times very scary and tiring but I am learning to cherish them. This warm glow I feel when I think about having a friend and support is something I am not willing to give up and I do not want to go back. I have been released from Alvara but also from Icewarden. I need no master anymore because I will make my own happiness. Happiness that is more than just satisfaction of having performed a task correctly.

And right at that point happiness was seeing all the expressions that visited her face when I told her I would not be going anywhere. That if she was willing to go with me then I most certainly was willing to stay with her too. My thoughts had been in that certain direction for a while now after all, so I suppose all I needed to hear was that my continued presence was not unwanted to make the decision firm.

Now I apparently need shelter, a house of some kind. I am not sure how I feel about this, although her point of things getting moldy in the kinds of places I sleep is valid. I tried to bring up that her place is dry but was met with resolute no. I do not own a lot but Zima claims that things accumulate when you settle down, so she assumes I would soon turn her cottage into nothing but cluttered storage if she allowed me to keep my things in there. That is absolutely not true by the way but for some reason I cannot convince her, so the negotiations continue. I might have to agree to some kind of structure. She has currently shut herself inside her cottage, to “sketch some plans and options,” as she phrased it. I am definitely not curious to see them at all but I will humour her. Such nonsense…

_ Later addendum for the same day: _

I might get a house after all.


End file.
